Locked In Silence (Pelican Bay 1)

Something tightened in my throat, and for the first time I really thought about where I was.

It was at that moment that Dallas chose to turn around. His eyes met mine, and even with the distance between us, it felt like he was touching me.

He’s not gay, you idiot. Get your damn head out of the clouds.

I sent Dallas an awkward nod and then tore my eyes free and began looking around. After dinner the night before, I’d checked out the website for the wildlife center. I’d told myself it was simply research for my new job, but secretly I’d hoped to find some kind of explanation for how someone like Dallas Kent had ended up running a wildlife sanctuary and rehabilitation center. I’d secretly observed Dallas enough when I’d been a kid to know he’d never seemed overly interested in animals. It had been baseball, baseball, and baseball for the star athlete.

The website had been a disappointment, since it had only consisted of a single page with the center’s contact information and instructions to leave a message on the office’s voicemail. There was also a note to call Dr. Cleary in Pelican Bay in case of an emergency. It was a harsh reminder how difficult it must have made things for Dallas to not be able to talk. He wouldn’t have even been able to return a call to someone.

Funny how none of that had been much of an issue the day before when I’d stopped by to return the jacket and had gotten to taste one small victory when Dallas had put the baby raccoon in with its new family.

Predictably, even thinking of that moment had me remembering how I’d grabbed onto Dallas’s wrist. I needed to be more careful, or Dallas was going to kick my ass for sure. I hadn’t really hidden my sexuality when I’d been a kid – there just hadn’t been anyone to tell. Based on the names I’d been called back then, most people had figured it out, anyway. But that didn’t mean I wanted to be obvious about it, and I had enough sense not to let someone like Dallas catch me ogling him. He may not have ever outwardly attacked me as a kid, but it wasn’t unheard of for straight guys to go off the rails when they thought a gay guy was hitting on them. Something as innocent as a handshake could be interpreted wrong.

It was that thought that had me keeping my eyes to myself as Dallas left the bear enclosure and headed my way. It wasn’t until he was standing in front of me that I nodded my head. “Morning,” I murmured.

Dallas sent me a nod and then motioned around us. He pulled his phone out a moment later and typed out Tour?

I nodded and fell into step next to him.

The property was huge, and with Dallas typing out messages about each pen, it was a slow process of making our way around the place. But I was glad when he took the time to explain things to me, because I was learning much of what I would have expected to find on the website.

The center was a mix between a rehabilitation facility and a sanctuary. Dallas indicated his goal was always first and foremost to rehabilitate an animal so it could be returned to the wild, but in some cases, that just wasn’t possible. He used the bear he’d been interacting with as an example.

He indicated the animal’s name was Gentry and explained how he’d received the bear after authorities had discovered Gentry and several other bears as part of an attraction at a roadside zoo. Gentry had been kept for years in a cage that had barely allowed the bear enough room to turn around in. He’d been malnourished, covered in scars from the abuse he’d suffered at his former owner’s hands and near death when Dallas had gotten him. Sanctuaries all over the country had volunteered to take the rest of the bears in, but they’d all been in captivity too long to be released back into the wild. Dallas went on to explain that while Gentry was used to humans, it was important to never forget that he was still a wild animal at heart. My respect for Dallas climbed several notches when he told me that he never got into the cage with Gentry, no matter how gentle the bear acted. I suspected many people wouldn’t have had that same level of restraint.

Although the center was geared toward wildlife, I saw many domesticated animals as well, including dogs, cats, and a variety of farm animals. I was more than a bit relieved when Dallas indicated it would be these animals that I’d be working with for starters.

The tour took longer than it probably should have, since I couldn’t stop asking questions about each animal’s story as we went along and Dallas was forced to type out his responses on his phone. Despite the awkwardness of it all, I could tell Dallas was extremely proud of what he’d built for his animals and I enjoyed watching him interact with each one. Like Gentry, there were several animals that had no chance of surviving in the wild and would spend the rest of their days at the center. He explained that the majority of the domesticated animals were up for adoption, but finding them homes was a challenge.